From Optical Fiber To Conceptual Cyberinfrastructure

Abstract

There is currently an infrastructure turn with very real implications for the humanities
and digital humanities. It comes not only with presumed technology or infrastructure, but
also with certain assumptions, discursive patterns, and models. This paper analyzes these
critically and advocates a humanities-based notion of cyberinfrastructure, not necessarily
built on a science-and-engineering paradigm or exclusively grounded in existing humanities
infrastructure. It is argued that we need to maintain a critical stance while
simultaneously engaging in the exploration of research issues and technologies. There is
often a gap between the material details of infrastructure and underlying, foundational
ideas, and it is suggested that a model based on conceptual cyberinfrastructure and design
parameters can be one way of connecting the ideational level with actual implementation.
HUMlab at Umeå University serves as a case study.

Introduction

Whether or not digital humanities is a field can be disputed, but there can be no
doubt that there is currently a great deal of activity, engagement, investment and
expressed hope in the intersection of the humanities and the digital. This is the third
article in a four-part series attempting to explore this very intersection, and it
examines infrastructure for the humanities in relation to the current discourse of
research infrastructure (or cyberinfrastructure) and the digital humanities.

In this article, I argue that the humanities need to consider the multiple opportunities
associated with cyberinfrastructure, while maintaining epistemic integrity and avoiding
modeling new infrastructure uncritically after existing models. For example, what is
humanities cyberinfrastructure? How can we critically engage with the discourse and ideas
of cyberinfrastructure? What are the infrastructural needs of the humanities? How can new
infrastructure and digital humanities spaces be designed and implemented? The humanities
are arguably in a position to co-create and co-construct their own notion of
cyberinfrastructure, as well as implementing it, even if the discourse and its associated
implementations do not necessarily conform fully to a science and engineering based model
or previous layers of scholarly infrastructure. HUMlab, a digital humanities center at
Umeå University, serves as a case study leading to a more general discussion of design
principles and conceptual cyberinfrastructure for the humanities. Further, tentative
advice as to implementing and strategizing humanities cyberinfrastructure is offered.

The article series, as a whole, traces digital humanities as a project in terms of
history, epistemic commitments, modes of engagement with the digital, conceptual
foundations for associated cyberinfrastructure, visions and hope invested, and future
directions for the field, and necessarily, for the humanities at large.

In the first article, I examined the discursive transition from humanities computing to
digital humanities, exploring how this naming is related to shifts in institutional,
disciplinary, and social organization. I also addressed the epistemic culture and
commitments of humanities computing, and tensions between this tradition and a broad
notion of digital humanities.

In the second article, I explored the broader landscape of the digital humanities through
a discussion of digital humanities and digital humanists, associated traditions, personal
encounters and importantly, through a suggested set of paradigmatic modes of engagement
between the humanities and information technology: information technology as a tool, an
object of study, an exploratory laboratory, an expressive medium, and as an activist
venue.

In the fourth article, I explore the multiple ways in which the digital humanities have
been envisioned and how the digital humanities can often become a laboratory and vehicle
for thinking about the state and future of the humanities at large. Some foundational
issues, including the role of the humanities and changing knowledge production systems,
are discussed and related to the development of the digital humanities. Furthermore, a
tentative vision of the digital humanities is presented. This vision is grounded in the
article series as a whole as well as in the important collaborative possibilities and
challenges that lie ahead of us.

Outline

The current article is divided into three parts. The first part discusses the notion and
discourse of research infrastructure critically, and relates this to the humanities and
humanities infrastructure. There is a significant gap between the grand visions of the
discourse of cyberinfrastructure and the actual, implemented infrastructure. It is argued
that it is essential that the humanities embrace current opportunities and explore
multiple visions when considering cyberinfrastructure for the humanities, while avoiding
the dangers of being uncritically modeled after existing humanities infrastructures or
after technology and science based models. The second part investigates a particular
example of digital humanities infrastructure in considerable detail. An attempt at
bridging the gap mentioned above is made through introducing a three-layered model which
incorporates conceptual cyberinfrastructure (underlying ideas and epistemic grounding),
design principles (intermediate level articulation of conceptual cyberinfrastructure) and
actual cyberinfrastructure (implemented infrastructure). Special emphasis is given to
space, infrastructure and how ideational grounding and physical (as well as digital)
implementation are negotiated. Finally, the third part of this article reflects on
packaging, strategizing and implementing cyberinfrastructure for the humanities. This
discussion draws on the previous parts, as well as experience from building a lab and
engaging with the digital humanities community.

It is argued that this expansive approach can help provide a comprehensive picture of
research infrastructure from visionary discourse to actual implementation, and support a
sophisticated argument for humanities cyberinfrastructure. However, any analysis of such a
complex matter as research infrastructure is necessarily partial, and while much of the
study is fairly general, the case study has provided an important point of canalization.
This also means that the idea of a physical, digitally inflected laboratory has influenced
the work, and that some other aspects, including standardization and digital libraries,
are given limited attention.

Part I: Cyberinfrastructure for the Humanities

Introduction

Research infrastructure, while traditionally not associated with the humanities, has
become a topic of conversation on faculty boards and among researchers in the
humanities. Moreover, there is substantial interest from funding agencies, councils and
various organizations under rubrics such as cyberinfrastructure and e-science. At this
point in time, there is a grapple for securing funding, defining key questions and
aligning the humanities with an epistemic framework bearing a strong science and
engineering legacy. There is no doubt there are many opportunities, particularly for a
field such as the digital humanities, but also real risks and important considerations.
What requires attention is not least the assumed epistemic and ontological neutrality of
the ‘infrastructure move’ and, correspondingly, its assumed broad applicability for
everything from geology to cultural studies. In this section, we will consider risks
associated with modeling humanities cyberinfrastructure on existing infrastructure, or
on a technology and science driven paradigm. The stakes are high, and the
cyberinfrastructure movement as a whole – and its articulation as an important strategy
in the humanities – can be seen as an epistemic power play. It is a power play with very
real implications for the humanities and the digital humanities.

Research Infrastructure

In the European Roadmap for Research Infrastructures Report
2006, research infrastructures are defined as follows:

In the roadmap, we deal with facilities, resources or services of a
unique nature that have been identified by pan-European research communities to
conduct top-level activities in all fields. This definition of Research
Infrastructures, including the associated human resources, covers major equipment or
sets of instruments, as well as knowledge‑containing resources such as collections,
archives and databases. Research Infrastructures may be single-sited,distributed, or virtual (the service being provided electronically).
They often require structured information systems related to data management,
enabling information and communication. These include technology-based
infrastructures such as grid, computing, software and middleware.
[European Roadmap 2006, 16]

This definition is fairly typical, and the full report is typical in the sense of
providing enumerations of different types of technologies and research infrastructures.
There is no simple way of defining research infrastructure(s) or
cyberinfrastructure as the terms are part of a social, institutional and
political context. Indeed, if we look at the term infrastructure itself, it
broadly refers to "the resources (as personnel, buildings, or
equipment) required for an activity" as well as "the
underlying foundation or basic framework (of a system or organization)"
[Merriam-Webster 2010]. [Edwards et al. 2009, 365] state that
the term often "connotes big, durable, well-functioning systems and
services, from railroads and highways to telephone, electric power, and the
Internet."

In practice, the notion of research infrastructure carries with it a number of
assumptions that are partly linked to funding structures and the idea of infrastructure
as a resource of national or international interest. Research infrastructure is
typically taken to be advanced, costly, require national or pan-national funding, be
associated with leading research and researchers, be part of a system, have use beyond
single research groups or disciplines, have longevity, and add significant new research
possibilities.

In general, much discussion of cyberinfrastructure is technology-driven, data-driven
and structural-level. This is partly a result of the selling of a new generation of
research infrastructure (cf. [Borgman 2007]), and partly a result of the
emphasis on the traditional infrastructural needs of science and technology. Just like
with digital humanities, the relatively high level of abstraction of a term
such as cyberinfrastructure allows for descriptions not grounded in
specific disciplines as much as in a set of high-level epistemic and technological
commitments:

As Borgman observes, cyberinfrastructure is often defined through example, typically
emphasizing the "integrative, collaborative, and distributed
nature of new forms of research"
[Borgman 2007, 22–23]. In addition, there is frequently an
assumption of very large and complex data sets. While we do not necessarily need to
question these assertions, it is important to note that we are concerned with a
particular type of discourse and epistemic framework. This implies that a possible
humanities alignment with cyberinfrastructure in this sense is, in fact, also an
alignment with this discourse and with associated assumptions. For instance,
distributedness in the sense of optiputers or grid computing is far more likely to be
seen as cyberinfrastructure than multi-modal communication, data exchange and analysis
through small-scale qualitative data bases, twitter and on-screen virtual worlds.
Another assumption is that cyberinfrastructure is quite costly. This is not to say that
humanities based cyberinfrastructure may not be quite costly, but rather to suggest that
the structure, epistemics and cost structure of humanities based cyberinfrastructure may
be different than that of science and engineering based infrastructure. These
assumptions are real in the sense that they influence the way humanities research
infrastructure is being imagined and built.

Research infrastructure seems to easily acquire a status and life beyond only
supporting or facilitating research. Importantly, research infrastructure is not
research (cf. [Rockwell 2010]), and it seems appropriate that research
needs and challenges shape the establishment of new infrastructure. In the case of the
humanities, we are thus primarily concerned with research challenges and infrastructural
needs identified by the humanities, and in particular, humanities researchers. A few
possible examples include: embodiment in digital environments, transformation of urban
spaces through media technology, tracing narrative structures in computer games, the use
of map based visualization to find patterns in large sets of archival information, text
mining technologies for literary and linguistic analysis, and understanding reading
comprehension with the help of eye tracking equipment.

However, the nature of infrastructure and funding mechanisms make the process more
complicated than matching one identified research challenge with an appropriate piece of
infrastructure. In practice, infrastructure often has to be relatively abstractly framed
and typically serve more than one specific need in order to qualify as infrastructure.
Technologies such as visualization and grid computing fulfill this requirement, and they
often come across as black boxes rather than sites of situated research
facilitation. Furthermore, funding is much more likely if the infrastructure is
associated with ‘new’ research and major projected advances. There is also a push for
interdisciplinary research endeavors. This means that there is a visionary,
cross-sectional and experimental component to many infrastructural projects.

Research Infrastructure for the Humanities

The discourse and practice of research infrastructure are strongly situated in science
and engineering, and typically concerns technology and systems that require national or
pan-national funding. Examples include high performance computing, grid computing, and
facilities for synchrotron radiation and biomedical imaging. Also in cases when national
funding sources in principle are open to all areas of research (including the
humanities), there is a strong tendency to mainly fund science, engineering and medical
research. For instance, the Swedish Research Council gave out 40 infrastructural grants
in 2009 for equipment, running costs for infrastructure and large databases, and none of
these grants had an obvious humanities focus or humanities based principal investigator,
although one or two grants were given to quantitative social science projects. Clearly,
the humanities have not been seen as a significant player in this kind of funding
schemes apart from in certain areas (e.g. computational linguistics, environmental
archaeology and digital libraries), which also means that the specifics of humanities
infrastructures are rarely elaborated on, and there is relatively little discussion of
what humanities infrastructure in this sense could actually be.

As was noted above, there is an acknowledgement and push for the importance of better
and more research infrastructure for the humanities — not least in the digital
humanities. This process is strongly linked to a realization that material, tools and
culture are becoming increasingly digitalized, and that academic work is increasingly
being carried out in a distributed and digitally supported fashion. The background is
also a relatively recent move towards a new generation of research infrastructure
often called cyberinfrastructure (in the US), e-science (in Europe and Australia) or
simply research infrastructure (e.g. Canada), which draws on computational resources,
distributed work and a more inclusive notion of infrastructure. [Rockwell 2010] describes this movement as an "infrastructure turn," while funding agency reports and other sources often
describe it as a revolution (e.g. [Green 2007]). At least in terms of how
it is presented, infrastructure in this sense is more likely to include human resources
and other non-technical aspects than earlier generations of infrastructure.
Nevertheless, the whole movement is essentially a science and engineering driven
enterprise:

The Panel’s overarching finding is that a new age
has dawned in scientific and engineering research, pushed by continuing progress in
computing, information, and communication technology; and pulled by the expanding
complexity, scope, and scale of today’s research challenges.
[Atkins et al. 2003, 31]

The use of new in this influential National Science Foundation Blue Ribbon
Report is not accidental; the discourse of cyberinfrastructure is one of new,emerging and expanding.
[Borgman 2007, 30] states that there are 133 instances of new
in this report, and most other similar documents show the same trait. The ACLS Report on
Cyberinfrastructure for the Humanities and Social Sciences [Unsworth et al. 2006]
reportedly uses 89 instances of new in 64 pages. These figures suggest that
"newness" may be a useful prerequisite for (funded) cyberinfrastructure.

The National Science Foundation Report only mentions the humanities explicitly once (in
relation to digital libraries), but nevertheless there is clearly an interest in
engaging with the humanities and social sciences despite the NSF’s focus on science and
engineering. Similarly, in many accounts of cyberinfrastructure there will be a note
about the impact on these non-primary areas.

Although
our focus is on e-Science, other research fields such as the social sciences, arts,
and humanities will also require and benefit from this emerging cyberinfrastructure.
[Hey & Trefethen 2008, 15]

It may be argued that statements like these are somewhat external to the humanities in
that they often make outside assumptions about the needs, requirements and priorities of
the field. In order for the humanities to control our own cyberinfrastructure, we need
to express humanities-driven needs and engage in constructive dialogue about our current
and future infrastructure.

Risks and Strategies

There are risks, however, that need to be addressed in this dialogue. First, existing
humanities infrastructure may be disregarded as we do not have a tradition of
science-like infrastructure. Second, the science-based and data-driven model may be
imposed on the Humanities (sometimes by humanists themselves) without careful discussion
of the premises and consequences. Third, there is a risk that infrastructural needs or
agendas compatible with the largely science based model will be the ones most likely to
be prioritized. Fourth, new humanities infrastructure may be uncritically based on
existing infrastructure and associated epistemic commitments.

The position taken in this article is that the current investments and interest in
cyberinfrastructure and e-science for the humanities present an opportunity to think
carefully about what the humanities need and may not need in terms of infrastructure
(broadly interpreted). This cannot be done, however, if we cannot maintain a critical
stance and advocate a truly humanities based approach to academic infrastructure. At the
same time, we need to acknowledge that we do not necessarily know what kind of
infrastructure we need and will need, and that it is important to simultaneously engage
in the exploration of humanities based research issues and challenges, and in the
exploration of technology and different kinds of infrastructure (including
infrastructure that is part of science and engineering cyberinfrastructure).
Consequently, we must allow for both technology and humanities induced visions and
implementations in different kinds of combinations.

Furthermore, we have to be aware of the fact that any investment in cyberinfrastructure
is likely to be a prioritization and that certain parts of the humanities are more
likely than others to be good candidates for such investments. It is important, however,
that this prioritization is not a direct consequence or transfer of a predominantly
science and engineering model of cyberinfrastructure and that it is not uncritically
based on existing infrastructural traditions. Importantly, cyberinfrastructure is not
neutral. In the following, we will look at three models for humanities research
infrastructure, which exemplify the non-neutrality of cyberinfrastructure: existing
infrastructure as a model, the humanities having no or little infrastructure, and a
technology and science driven model.

Existing infrastructure as a model

The humanities have made use of research infrastructure in scholarly practice from
early on, and for instance, libraries and archives are often pointed out as essential
infrastructure to the humanities. Indeed, some writers claim that the humanities
themselves make up vital infrastructure (e.g. [Swedish Research Council 2007], 2009-2012), or
cultural infrastructure can function as trading zones between technological, artistic,
and humanities practitioners (see [Turner 2009] on Burning Man as a
cultural infrastructure). A related model is that of network forums as emergent
structures that blend cultural and infrastructural networks (see [Turner 2005] on the WELL).

One descriptive model states that there is considerable humanities research
infrastructure already in place and that this infrastructure is a very good candidate
for becoming cyberinfrastructure or being digitalized:

The
infrastructure of scholarship was built over centuries. It includes diverse
collections of primary sources in libraries, archives, and museums; the
bibliographies, searching aids, citation systems, and concordances that make that
information retrievable; the standards that are embodied in cataloging and
classification systems; the journals and university presses that distribute the
information; and the editors, librarians, archivists, and curators who link the
operation of this structure to the scholars who use it. All of these elements have
extensions or analogues in cyberinfrastructure, at least in the cyberinfrastructure
that is required for humanities and social sciences.
[Unsworth et al. 2006, 6]

While this is probably a valid description of existing infrastructure (but cf. [Rockwell 2010]), it largely leaves out infrastructures outside of
libraries, archives, museums and publication systems. It could be argued that we are
concerned here with a library and collection based model – admittedly well in line with
a large part of the humanities. It is important to realize, however, that there is a set
of epistemic commitments associated with this model – pertaining to structure, delivery,
material types, retrieval systems, selection procedures, relation between researchers
and library institution and other issues basic to the humanities – and that any major
new investment in cyberinfrastructure should not uncritically be based on such, existing
structures and descriptions. For instance, it would seem that the model presented above
makes a fairly strong delineation between the collections (institutions, distribution
systems, professional functions involved, etc.) and the researchers and the research
community. Drucker addresses such delineations critically:

The
design of new environments for performing scholarly work cannot be left to the
technical staff and to library professionals. The library is a crucial partner in
planning and envisioning the future of preserving, using, even creating scholarly
resources. So are the technology professionals. But in an analogy with building
construction, they are the architect and contractor. The creation of archives,
analytic tools, statistical analyses of aggregate data in humanities and social
sciences is work only possible with the combined expertise of technical,
professional, and scholarly personnel. [...] Modelling scholarship is an
intellectual challenge, not a technical one. I cannot say this strongly or clearly
enough.
#drucker2009a

In contrast to much of the discourse of cyberinfrastructure and digital humanities,
Drucker focuses on the scholarly challenge and not on the technology or
technology-induced visions. However, the terms on which this analogy is constructed
reinforces specific roles, and the term contractors may be seen to mark an
implicit class distinction and clear institutional positions. A related question is
whether new institutional roles will develop, and whether these will blur the roles
described by Drucker and the ACLS report. Along these lines, Blackwell and Crane call
for institutional change:

[…] [W]e need new institutions to
provide access to the results of our work. Neither the libraries nor the publishers
of the early twenty-first century serve the needs that emerge in this collection.
While libraries may survive and indeed flourish as an institution, they will do so
by subsuming and transforming the functions that we entrusted to publishers in print
culture.
#blackwell2009

The library as a model is hence not static, and as Blackwell and Crane’s example
illustrates, we need to be careful about not uncritically modeling tomorrow’s research
infrastructure on past or current infrastructure.

The Humanities Have no or Little Infrastructure

There is a sense that traditional humanities have very little need of research
infrastructure and, at the same time, a partial realization that that the needs may be
changing. This is an argument sometimes put forward by the digital humanities community:

Despite a slow and uneven uptake of digital technology in
some areas of the Arts and Humanities research, the discipline is no longer based on
pen and paper. Specific individual needs of research that relies on the use of
advanced technologies must be better understood and matched by a level of support
that is already enjoyed by the scientists.
[Bentkowska-Kafel 2007]

This kind of reasoning to some extent reinforces the sense of "basic" humanities
being mainly reliant on technologies such as pen and paper, and it is by no means a new
argument (see e.g. [Roper 1991, 131]). More broadly, however, the
view of basic humanities as without, or little, significant infrastructure not only
assumes a science and technology based idea of what makes up infrastructure, but also
imposes a "pen and paper" construction of the humanities. Pen and paper, while
inherently communicative and collaborative, are also linked to the assumption that
humanities scholarship to a large extent is a solitary endeavor (the individual scholar
in his or her study):

Humanities scholars often work alone
without collaborators or assistants. In contrast to the cooperative efforts common
in the sciences and social sciences, humanities scholarship is the result of
solitary research and thought.
[Burnette et al. 1994, 182]

Obviously most humanities research is not at all solitary (cf. [Grafton 2009, 2–5]), even though authorship is often attributed to one
person. Moreover, there can be no doubt that there is research infrastructure in the
humanities and that it has a long history. One possible consequence of construing the
humanities as not having much infrastructure and being a solitary enterprise is a higher
readiness to adopt science and engineering models of cyberinfrastructure (as if there is
"nothing" there to start with).

A Technology- and Science-driven Model

When a science and engineering framework is taken to the humanities and social
sciences, there will often be attempts at aligning specific toolsets and technologies
with the subject areas in question and here, the starting point will often be the
technology. A fairly recent example is grid computing (see e.g. [Bonnett, Rockwell and Kuchmey 2008]). Questions asked may be: What can grid computing do for the
humanities? What large humanities data sets are particularly suitable for grid computing
applications? The gap between high performance computing perspectives on grid computing
and humanities based research issues and questions can be very large, and in
facilitating meetings between the two, it is critical to create a common discursive
space and allow time for dialogue. A good example of deep thinking about this process is
provided by the report "Mind the Gap"
[Rockwell & Meredith-Lobay 2010], in which it is argued that currently, the main gap
between High Performance Computing and research in the humanities relates to research
culture and support.

On the one hand we have to find ways of
training and preparing humanities research teams to be able to imagine using
existing HPC facilties, and on the other we have to develop the ability of HPC
consortia to be able to reach out and support.
[Rockwell & Meredith-Lobay 2010]

One recommendation in the report concerns the necessity of humanists being involved
early in the process (also in management and decisions). There is a balance between
discipline and technology driven issues and questions, and finding this common ground is
not trivial. Importantly, we also need to acknowledge that "technological
competence" can be very diverse, research intensive and complex. Indeed, since the
discourse of cyberinfrastructure has a tendency to take place at an aggregate level in
relation to complex and internally diverse entities such as the humanities or science
and engineering, it would seem that real, grounded encounters can be particularly
valuable.

On a more abstract level there is a concern with aligning cyberinfrastructure as a
project with the humanities and social sciences:

Humanities
scholars and social scientists will require similar facilities but, obviously, not
exactly the same ones: “grids of computational centers” are needed in the humanities
and social sciences, but they will have to be staffed with different kinds of
subject-area experts; comprehensive and well-curated libraries of digital objects
will certainly be needed, but the objects themselves will be different from those
used in the sciences; software toolkits for projects involving data-mining and
data-visualization could be shared across the sciences, humanities, and social
sciences, but only up to the point where the nature of the data begins to shape the
nature of the tools. Science and engineering have made great strides in using
information technology to understand and shape the world around us. This report is
focused on how these same technologies could help advance the study and
interpretation of the vastly more messy and idiosyncratic realm of human
experience.
[Unsworth et al. 2006]

There is, again, a risk here of adopting a science and engineering based model for
humanities infrastructure in such a way that it significantly constrains and shapes
possible research enterprises and directions. The question is also whether it is at all
possible to discern a point like the one referred to in "only up to
the point where the nature of the data begins to shape the nature of the
tools". It may be argued that this point occurs very early and that there is more
at play here than the nature of the data. It could be argued the alignment described in
the ACLS report is simply not feasible. As Sterne points out, "disciplines never fully constitute their objects; they fight over them"
[Sterne 2005, 251]. He argues that these fights are partly
what make disciplines maintain their intellectual vibrancy. If the range of data and the
study objects are in question, it may be difficult to process data up to a
certain point and use generic tools without early involvement from researchers.
Furthermore, it could be argued any data would already be part of an information and
knowledge infrastructure that is relevant to knowledge production and creation of tools
and technology:

Information infrastructures such as databases
should be read both discursively and materially; they are a site of political and
ethical as well as technical work; and that there can be no a priori attribution of
a given question to the technical or the political realms.
[Bowker 2005, 123]

Broadly conceived, cyberinfrastructure is intertwined with various institutional,
social, cultural and historical layers inside and outside the disciplines themselves. As
research infrastructure often, but not necessarily, supports interdisciplinary work, it
seems particularly important to situate data structures, standards, technologies,
knowledge structures and tools in a broad epistemological context. This is even more
important given that infrastructures have a tendency to become invisible over time and
that scalability is a commonly assigned property of cyberinfrastructure [Bowker & Leigh Star 1999, 33].

There is a risk that external pressure on the humanities, not least the digital
humanities, leads us to a positivist, results-driven approach. Here the need to provide
motivation for funding agencies and university administration unsurprisingly plays an
important role:

I'd just like to chip in and say this is what the funding councils
are calling Evidence of Value — and are asking us to show evidence for the
value of digital humanities research. It's important, as funding cuts in this area
(such as the withdrawal of funds for the AHDS) are based on the perceived lack of
evidence of value. Unless we can articulate, as a community, the better/faster/more
nature of digital, we will struggle even harder for funding in years to come.
#terras2009

The choice of adjectives here — "better/faster/more"
#terras2009 — suggests a view of
the digital humanities and associated infrastructure in line with the positivist
discourse of science and technology driven cyberinfrastructure discussed above. The
context is a dialogue about "making a difference" and "What
difference does digital make?"
#terras2009. While the above excerpt is very short and informal and we
should not make too much of it, it is nevertheless noteworthy that it does not provide
arguments that bring in research issues or current disciplinary challenges, which would
seem indicative of the methodological and technological focus of traditional humanities
computing.

Implications and Stakes

At a time when there is both external pressure to specify infrastructural needs for the
humanities and a growing humanities-internal interest for academic infrastructure and
for the digital, it is clear that the ways we articulate and implement
cyberinfrastructure for the humanities have strong implications. What happens if we do
not explore multiple visions, focus only on digitizing existing infrastructure, or let
the agenda be set through a technological focus or a model strongly based in the
sciences?

Here the question of epistemic commitments (cf. [Svensson 2009]) clearly
comes into play. A too singular vision of cyberinfrastructure will limit the players and
participants to those who match the epistemologies embedded in the new infrastructures,
likewise a narrow focus on extending current infrastructure may result in a kind of
epistemological conservatism that would foreclose potential new ways of knowing
and legitimizing knowledge. Equally, a technology and science-inspired model driving the
agenda could result in a cyberinfrastructure for the humanities without strong grounding
in the disciplines, knowledge production, and indeed, needs and interests of the
humanities. Furthermore, there is also the risk of what may be called epistemic
double-binds (following [Ratto 2006]) where humanities researchers who
want to make use of the new technologies are caught between the commitments of their
academic disciplines and those of engineering, computer science and science more
broadly. Ratto's principal example concerns use of computer-supported visualization and
modeling in classical archaeology, and how three groups of scholars and scientists — for
different reasons grounded in different epistemic commitments — rejected a project where
an immersive 3D environment was used to question traditional understanding of the use of
terra cotta materials in a particular form of pre-Roman temple. Ratto importantly argues
that

[a]cknowledging these commitments can help us develop appropriate
technologies that help rather than hinder existing research practice, add a layer of
reflexivity to researchers' choices and decisions, and ultimately, facilitate
productive cross-disciplinary collaboration
[Ratto 2006]

Given the cyberinfrastructural push and the considerable interest in establishing new
initiatives for the digital humanities, there is currently a window of opportunity. This
window of opportunity needs to be combined with critical engagement to establish good
practice, explore possible models and have a cyberinfrastructural dialogue across the
Humanities.

Part II: HUMlab as a Case Study

Introduction

As we have seen, the discourse on research infrastructure frequently becomes abstract
and undetailed. At times, it is also positivistic and seemingly unsituated. At close
quarters, on the other hand, infrastructure is often very concrete and material. The
step from this material quality, as exemplified by a strand of optical fiber or a
database server, to the conceptual underpinnings of research infrastructure, e.g. the
ideas underlying a digital humanities initiative can be very substantial. In the
following section, it is suggested that it can be helpful to look at the underlying
ideas and the material qualities as well as intermediate level design principles that
mediate ideas and infrastructure.

In order to connect ideational grounding, design principles and actual implemented
infrastructure, the case study of HUMlab, a digital humanities laboratory in the North
of Sweden, will be examined in detail, as a particular example of humanities
cyberinfrastructure. The case study was partly chosen because of the current author’s
intimate knowledge of it, but also because it serves as a fairly distinct example of
digital humanities infrastructure. Needless to say, it is only one example of
infrastructural implementations, and as most infrastructures, highly situated in a
particular context.

Framing the Case Study

HUMlab is situated in a comprehensive research university, Umeå University, and as a
ten-year endeavor, it has just undergone a major expansion supported strongly by the
university as well as several external funding agencies. HUMlab has a commitment to a
wide range of different modes of engagement which, naturally, affects infrastructural
needs and visions. At this particular point in time, the university has taken a decision
to build a new artistic campus — Umeå Arts Campus — by the river not too far from the
main campus. Here the Institute of Design, the Academy of Fine Arts, BildMuseet (museum
for contemporary visual arts) and a new School of Architecture will be situated, in
addition to the new HUMlab-X. HUMlab will be the only institute or department to have a
clear presence on both campuses.

As noted above, there is evidently a considerable gap between the visionary, often
positivistic and unsituated, discourse on cyberinfrastructure and implemented, and often
quite material and situated, infrastructure. The connection between the two seems weak
at times, and as we have seen, the conceptual underpinnings of cyberinfrastructure and
associated epistemic scope may not be clear or explicated. At the same time, seemingly
small decisions about technical or constructional details can have a very real impact on
potential use and research possibilities afforded by the infrastructure.

Through looking at implemented infrastructure, how it came about, ideational grounding
and actual use, we can get a better sense of the complexity of the process and hopefully
suggest a model that makes the concept of cyberinfrastructure richer, at the same time
as linking to actual infrastructure. In the following, a model which includes conceptual
cyberinfrastructure, design principles and actual cyberinfrastructure will be explored
in relation to a particular infrastructural example.

There are many possible infrastructural needs for a digital humanities lab or any
digital humanities enterprise. These needs are partly connected to the modes of
engagement discussed in the second article in this series [Svensson 2010].
For example, if the primary mode of engagement is technology as tool, you are likely to
have rather different needs from an enterprise where the digital as a study object is
the main focus. Patently, there are a great many different possible implementations for
any digital humanities related enterprise dependent on factors such as the specific
context, visions and epistemic scope.

It is worth stressing the wide range of possible implementations within a single mode
of engagement such as technology as tool. One example may be a research environment
interested in experimental work using eye-tracking equipment or phonetic experiments in
an echo-free room. These various facilities could possibly be manifested in several
separate (but probably co-localized) rooms. Another example could be an institution
focused on digital cultural heritage and the use of heavy-duty databases for making
cultural heritage accessible to researchers around the world. Here the database servers
would not necessarily have to take up any lab space at all as they would probably be
housed in a server hall somewhere. Much of the work could then be carried out in
individual offices or in a small lab space with workstations and space to help
facilitate collaborative projects. A third example may be found in the tool-building
phase of a large-scale research project where the digital component was a small part of
the whole project. Here the facilities and equipment used may be part of that larger
research project, or there might be some general resources for certain tasks.
Importantly, all of the above examples require resources beyond the technology proper,
and high-level competency is often needed. For instance, it does not make much sense to
invest in high-end eye-tracking equipment if you do not have staff or researchers
invested in methodology, technical management and maintenance. For more extensive use,
and higher return on investment (i.e. higher and more "efficient" use), it is
unsurprisingly advantageous to have dedicated people and resources connected to the
infrastructure.

The installation we will now look at has a more general, multipurpose character beyond
the needs of single research groups, disciplines or methodological areas. HUMlab is a
physically grounded studio environment heavily dependent on distributed work,
international collaboration and reaching out. My knowledge from this institution comes
from personal engagement and directorship, and while this inside perspective certainly
calls for methodological concern and care, it also brings long experience from building,
developing and incorporating a particular institution and its associated
cyberinfrastructure.

Introducing HUMlab

HUMlab at Umeå University, Sweden, is a digital humanities center whose main physical
manifestation is a 500 m2 (5,500 square feet) studio space
at the center of the campus below the university library. This location is ideal because
of its centrality and because it is seen as a neutral space not associated with any
particular school or department. It is also a space with history and certain, irregular
physical qualities that seem to help create an engaging and attractive environment.

The basic idea behind HUMlab, as articulated early on, is to facilitate the meeting
between humanities, culture and information technology, or put differently, to be a
meeting place for the humanities, culture and information technology. Being a
collaborative and intersectional place is critical to the operation. This
fairly simple idea makes up a strong ideational basis, which is evident in the lab’s
documentation from the very beginning up to this point. At the same time, it is not very
concrete in the sense of detailing out implementations and constraints. This has allowed
a fairly dynamic development and a relative openness to ideas and initiatives.

The roots of this fairly independent role can partly be found in the lab’s origins.
HUMlab was established in the late 1990s as a result of a discussion at the humanities
faculty that started around 1994-95. The earliest incitement was the fact that the
analogue language laboratory (mainly for teaching language pronunciation and
proficiency) was gradually breaking down, and an early response was to try to devise
some kind of multimedia lab. The resultant application for external funding was not
successful, but had it been, the new lab would probably have been fairly traditional and
instrumental. The failed attempt to secure funding led to the faculty seeking help
elsewhere, resulting in a multiple-year process and ultimately to a very different
concept. This concept, the meeting place mentioned above, partly came from outside the
faculty and through working with a senior and creative officer at the university-wide IT
function, the faculty secured technological validity, administrative know-how and an
outside perspective on the humanities.

The resultant project application rendered some early external funding for equipment in
1998, and a decision was taken to support the lab at a faculty board meeting in November
1998. It is noteworthy that the faculty board, despite the secured external funding for
equipment and a fairly long internal process, was quite divided. The decision was
positive but it took the decisive vote of the chair of the board to settle the matter.
This hesitancy is possibly unsurprising, giving the "newness" of the enterprise and
that any decision of funding is implicitly or explicitly a matter of prioritization.
Also, investments in infrastructure or continuously paying for maintaining an
infrastructure outside the traditional commitment of a faculty brings up important
questions about long-term costs and the extent of financial and institutional
commitments.

The Space

The idea of having a lab or studio space was part of the concept from very early on.
Indeed, as we noted above, it all started as a concern with an old language laboratory
and a possible multimedia replacement, the spatial need and having a lab could be seen
as part of the original epistemic setup. It was taken further, though, in the subsequent
discussions of HUMlab. There is a significant difference between a more moderate lab
space and the large space that was envisioned and later allocated for HUMlab. This may
partly have been a consequence of the focus on HUMlab as a meeting place and a diverse
studio space with many different technologies and approaches. Moreover, HUMlab was
described at an early stage as a playground - a place for exploring, testing
ideas, connecting with outside initiatives and materials, and playing with technology -
and this may have added to the sense of needing substantial space.

The characteristics of the available space played an important role. After some
negotiation, HUMlab was offered an old space below the university library. For many
years, the long-term goal, supported by the university management, was to secure another
space (newly built), but it has gradually become more and more obvious how well the
existing space works. The location is critical, and a new, nice space at the periphery
of the campus would most certainly not work as well as a meeting place. Also, the
quirkiness, character and history of an old space plays an important role, as
exemplified by the pillars, the irregularity of the space, the basement position and its
earlier function as an exam hall. We will return to these elements shortly.

HUMlab as a physical playground and meeting place is very much grounded in ongoing
activities, lab life, meetings and technology. This physical presence extends into
various digital environments and the two spaces of activity are richly interlinked. Most
of the activities and projects are distributed in one sense or another. For instance,
one of the first projects in the lab (started in 1999) a three-year student based
exploration and expression in a virtual world hosted by HUMlab [Svensson 2003], and since then, there has been lively engagement with a
range of virtual world platforms. Most of the projects to do with digital cultural
heritage have a presence in the physical lab, but much of the core operation occurs in
relation to distributed databases and tools in international teams. Another example of
merging of physical and digital is a fairly recent interest in physical computing. One
of the 2008-2009 digital art fellows ran an operation called Ms. Balthazar’s Laboratory,
a physical computing workshop for artistic uses intended primarily for women, with
continuous meetings in HUMlab. The collaboration and workshops continue after the
digital art fellow has left Umeå. Another fellow facilitated a process of community
creation and curation that led to the exhibition of the Open Source Embroidery Project
in 2009 in HUMlab and the BildMuseet. This exhibition opened in San Francisco in the
winter of 2009, and it also reverberates in the lab through new courses and other
activities.

Organization and Collaboration

In terms of organization, HUMlab is a unit directly under the Humanities faculty and in
most respects structurally comparable to a department. HUMlab can employ faculty as well
as staff, and the director of the lab has roughly the same role as a head of a
department. There is no formal research discipline associated with HUMlab, which means
that Ph.D. students are affiliated both with HUMlab and a department. Faculty can be
employed and tenured (in the European sense) by HUMlab. There are many possible
organizational models, of course, but in many respects this particular organizational
position seems advantageous. For one thing, there is little risk that HUMlab becomes too
much associated with one department. HUMlab works with all humanities departments and
disciplines (but in different ways and to varying extents). A higher organizational
position such as a being a university level unit may be useful in some respects, but the
risk may be that you lose disciplinary anchorage. Furthermore, because of the unit’s
relative independency and multiple modes of engagement with information technology,
there is little risk that HUMlab becomes classified as a service unit (a kind of unit
normally prone to restructuring and financial rationalization; cf. [Flanders & Unsworth 2002]).

An important part of HUMlab as practice is broad collaboration within and outside the
humanities faculty. It is vital that HUMlab has had (or taken) a mandate to work
extensively with other parts of the university, artists, companies and others interested
in collaboration. Often these collaborations function as a way of creating collaborative
opportunities for humanities researchers, students and departments. Importantly, HUMlab
presents itself as being dynamically built on such collaborations rather than as a
distinct and self-sustained research center. This is probably one of the reasons why
there is strong support for a new HUMlab on the new Umeå Arts Campus. There was clearly
an interest in having parties who not only engage in collaboration, but whose main
function is to facilitate collaboration and interdisciplinary meetings (and in a way are
dependent on rich collaboration for success).

It may be argued that a chief difficulty in growing digital humanities is finding modes
of scholarship that enable young researchers to inhabit the often problematic in-between
zones. HUMlab attempts to balance interdisciplinarity within a collaborative zone with a
grounding in departments and disciplines. This allows a range of strategies to grow.
Further, it provides migration in discourses between interdisciplinary zones and centers
of traditional academic departments and enables solidarities to arise in communities
across departments, thus helping structure a field of research, and does not force young
scholars to compromise between conservative choices for career and their interest in
speaking to the contemporary moment.

An early strategic decision that shaped HUMlab and associated cyberinfrastructure is
that access is not restricted to specific groups and that the lab is open to students,
faculty and staff as well as outside participants (a consequence of the basic idea of
meeting place). Hence there is no exclusive focus on research, rather a continuous
cross-fertilization between education, research and development work. HUMlab was
designed to allow several simultaneous activities, and normally, a single activity
cannot monopolize the lab. For instance, this means that a teacher using HUMlab for a
class cannot ask other people to leave the lab (unless they are obviously disturbing the
teaching), and that interaction between groups and individuals is encouraged. The
difference between a regular classroom and HUMlab is quite pronounced, while some
teachers may initially be uncomfortable with HUMlab as learning environment, most seem
to appreciate the dynamics and energy of the lab. A common reaction if you enter the lab
for the first time – not least students – is one of (positive) surprise and some
bewilderment.

The Importance of Spatial Configuration and Designing Space

The interrelation between the space, technology and design is key to the actual
implementation of a digital humanities environment whether it be physical or digital.
Space and design cannot be divorced from technology and intellectual milieu (cf. [Livingstone 2003]); they are indeed important parts of what makes up
cyberinfrastructure.

The physical lab space of HUMlab was originally an examination hall and is situated in
the oldest part of the university – below the university library and the central
rotunda. The basement location gives the lab a certain atmosphere (cf. [Williams 2008]), which is reinforced by approaching the lab though a tunnel
of protruding pipes, cement walls, sounds from the pipes, echoes in the corridor and
muted noise from the students above. An interesting contrast is created between this
subterranean feel, with some of the edginess and rawness associated with the
"underground," and the "warm" inside design of the lab.

The foundational function is further evidenced through 24 pillars and the rotunda,
whose protruding base forms one of the inner walls. The ceiling height is not the same
throughout the space and in general, the space is fairly irregular. The original lab
space is about 280 m2 (3000 square feet). It contains a
closeable inner space with large windows and the lab’s computer workstations are mainly
organized around pillars (as "islands"). Together with the aforementioned glass
room, a meeting section behind a bookcase and an area with couches and an aquarium, the
islands make up an important part of the lab space. There are quite a few screens in the
space, mostly private workstation screens, but also several display screens. Many of the
private screens are in fact fairly public as the space has been designed to encourage
people to relate to each other’s work. In this way, there is a simultaneous production
of a shared sense of publicness, co-location and semi-private space (cf. [McCarthy 2001]). Other screens consistently work as portals to projects and
other physical and digital spaces.

Although a rather untraditional lab environment, the old part of the space has some
elements associated with traditional computer lab spaces, including the computer
workstations described above. When HUMlab was expanded in 2008 with an additional 220
m2 (2400 square feet), the new space was designed with
considerably more flexibility than the old part. In a way, the two parts represent
fairly different implementations and concepts within a common framework. The function of
an open meeting place is quite pronounced in the new space. At the center is "a room
in a room" defined by wallpapered pillars, a rug and a large central table, and all
these parts can be removed or reconfigured. The rest of the space is fairly open in its
basic configuration. An important property of the new lab space is a screenscape that
includes a number of public screens around the space. There are ten large flat screens
(57"-70") and one very large, back projected high resolution (4K) screen. The large
screen has multi-touch functionality and there is a spatial audio system which covers
the screenscape in its entirety. The basic idea is to afford rich contextualization, and
partly collaborative and partly distributed work in a fairly large interaction space.
The arrangement of the screens is quite significant and their placement at the periphery
of the space in combination with the centrally placed table prevents the screens from
dominating the space.

Figure 2.

Photo of HUMlab (part of the screenscape and the expanded studio
space)

These public screens are simultaneously individual and part of the screenscape, and
they structure and break up the space in certain ways. Participants in the space can be
situated in relation to individual screens or in the context of the full screenscape, as
well in ongoing activities or conversations. [McCarthy 2001] discusses
some of these complexities in relation to multiple overhead monitors:

Serial spectacles on overhead screens both symbolically join spaces
together in long-distance communication and fragment the social atmosphere of their
immediate environments. The connotations of public address that come with the
convention of overhead screen placement suture the conversing spectator into (at
least) two places at once.
[McCarthy 2001, 124]

While the screens in the HUMlab screenscape are not placed in an overhead position (but
rather mid-level), they certainly both fragment and join the space together. The space
and technical setup encourage experimentation with different configuration and uses.

Behind the screen perimeter there are a number of workplaces and workstations for
different research areas and for visiting scholars. Here the large screens mounted on
pillars help separate the screenscape from the more private area behind the pillars,
while maintaining a sense of communication in between the more public and the more
private zones. One of the sections behind the pillars has a combined whiteboard and
projection screen that is not part of the screenscape and which allows a small research
group to collaboratively and semi-privately use the screen and associated
technology.

There can be no doubt that the ways cyberinfrastructure is constructed and implemented
have direct bearing on knowledge production and the epistemic scope of such
infrastructures, and that space, physical and digital, is often a carrier of
cyberinfrastructure. There is rich meaning to how space and infrastructure are
configured, juxtaposed and used far beyond the purely functional or technical properties
of the infrastructure. The following set of quotes illustrates this point in relation to
a traditional humanities infrastructure - the library.

I'm
surprised to realize how much my identity as a humanist at MIT is tied to Building
14, how strong its symbolic importance as a space for humanities books and
humanities teachers.

I think that a Humanities Library should be a kind of intellectual hub for
humanities scholars and students. It should house books, of course, but also
humanities events, humanities computing resources, etc. Humanists should be able
to gather there to exchange ideas. The library is our lab. And our food trucks,
minus the food.

The best place for writing for me is by the big windows in the Humanities
Library, with the network drop nearby. All I ask for is some newer tables, and
maybe more ergonomic chairs.

The Humanities Library is an oasis in an otherwise inhospitable desert. It
provides the Humanities with a dignity that is not accord else on this campus, and
therefore sustains me in my sense of intellectual and academic worth on a
day-to-day basis. [HASS 2001]

These comments were collected in the beginnings of the 2000s, when there was a
discussion of the future and location of the humanities library at MIT. The comments
mainly come from faculty, and here we get a sense of the richness and interconnectedness
associated with conceptual grounding (the library as idea, meeting place and hub),
design (e.g. the big windows and the network drop), location, personal engagement with
the infrastructure, power structures and disciplinary perspectives.

It is thus important to carefully consider how we design these spaces or
infrastructures and how they relate to both the technological level of infrastructure
and conceptual grounding. This may be where we find the kind of articulation and
"packaging" required to address the challenge we outlined in Part I of this
article: the need for humanities based visions of cyberinfrastructure.

A rich full-length study of the complexities of cyberinfrastructure in relation to
space and conceptual notions can be found in Reinhold Martin's analysis of corporate
architecture in the United States after the Second World War [Martin 2005]. He traces how cybernetics and a systems-based theory in architecture come to create
flexible and modular interiors. In his analysis of IBM and the IBM Rochester's plant -
designed by architect Eero Saarinen - that opened in September 1958, Martin points to
how the architecture of modular blue patterns was used to "displace (or dissimulate) the social hierarchies written into white collars and
gray flannel, in the name of 'human relations' among mass-produced
IBMers"
[Martin 2005, 170]. One example of this is the visitors'
entry not being seen as more important or architecturally pronounced than the entries to
the employees' pavilions. Martin traces the parallels between the design of devices such
as the IBM 305 Random Access Memory Accounting Machine (RAMAC, released in 1956) and the
corporate buildings of IBM. He points to the analogy between human nervous systems and
computer design, and associated neurological terminology made prevalent by John Neumann
and others, and how this thinking may also become reflected also in the architecture.

While IBM represented itself as a mere maker of business
machines and "calculators," even its building were experimenting with
"logical controls" encoded into a paper-thin skin. Even more than the RAMAC,
this building's "brain" was on its surface. In that regard, its image was
integral to the organizational strategies that kept the company growing and enabled
it to expand its research into artificial intelligence, pattern recognition, and
related arenas.
[Martin 2005, 181]

These arrangements clearly have rich meaning, and it could be argued that such a
reflective mode and sense of history and ideational grounding also helps us to better
understand cyberinfrastructure for the humanities.

Conceptual Cyberinfrastructure

Conceptual cyberinfrastructure can be seen as a set of underlying ideas that provide
the ideational grounding of a particular instance of research infrastructure. In the
case of HUMlab, facilitating cross-sectional meetings is such an underlying idea. In the
model presented here, these basic ideas can be related to design principles. For
instance, the design principle of translucence (to facilitate both "see-through"
and individual space) helps facilitate the idea of HUMlab as a meeting place. These
principles, in turn, inform the implementation of actual infrastructure (for instance
making extensive use of glass and not having any fully isolated parts of the lab).

In practice the flow will be iterative, and for instance, it is rarely the case that
new space and infrastructure can be built without any constraints imposed from existing
systems, architecture and research infrastructure, as well as existing funding regimes
and/or policies at the administrative level. Such constraints (and possibilities) need
to be presented and negotiated throughout the process.

While this model may seem ambitious for small installations and for conventionalized
infrastructure (such as a traditional classroom intended to be used "traditionally"
or a standard query system for a research database), it can be quite useful when
thinking about new kind of learning and research spaces and associated infrastructure.
It encourages us to be clear about the conceptual underpinnings and epistemic scope,
think carefully about how these can be translated into design principles and
operationalized in relation to existing infrastructure and planned cyberinfrastructure.
If successful, such a process would help us articulate our requirements, visions and
ideas in a broad, contextualized sense and in relation to conceptual issues, as well as
physical and digital implementation. Furthermore, it may help us create a meeting point
for people from the "enterprise" (department, university administration,
"users") and people involved in the creation of new infrastructure and space
(architects, hardware and software specialists, contractors, property owners and
sometimes also funding agencies).

Importantly, since the digital humanities maximally but not necessarily, incorporates
many different disciplines, disciplinary pathways, modes of engagement, perspectives and
outside pressures, it is quite important to be conscious of epistemic traditions and be
deliberate about the process, vision and implementation. It is also important, however,
to acknowledge that arriving at a conceptual foundation and implementation often is a
complex, iterative and exploratory process, and that there are many possible paths.

In the case of HUMlab, it is quite clear that there has been a set of conceptual
underpinnings that have shaped the emerging cyberinfrastructure from the beginning,
although some of these may not have been articulated until quite late in the process.
Other parts of the conceptual foundation have developed and changed over the years.
Below, three significant examples are given, one of which is discussed at more length.
Additionally, individual design principles are detailed in the subsequent section.

Meeting place: The notion of HUMlab as a meeting place is central
to HUMlab as an idea and space, and clearly articulated in early vision documents as
well as in actual implementation. This is reflected in the design principles of
translucence (encouraging contact and having a sense of what other people are working
on), flexibility (supporting many different kinds of meetings and technological
platforms) and engagement (a space and endeavor that attracts engagement, intensity
and interest), and their spatial and technological implementations. In terms of
facilitating a variety of meetings, HUMlab has plenty of social spaces (also outside
the lab proper), meeting tables, an "outward" design that make many computer
screens visible to others, many large screens, coffee (often free) and a range of
software, hardware and activities that attract people from different parts of the
university and from the outside. Also, the lab is available to users 24 hours, all
year. A well-functioning lab space can help create a platform for managing and
supporting research infrastructure in that there will always be a range of
competencies and skill sets available, and at best, a willingness to help and share
knowledge. The sense of meeting place extends outside the physical lab space, of
course, and there is a strong dispersed community, ongoing distributed work and shared
data sets, materials and tool development.

Multiple modes of engagement: Another conceptual and epistemic
baseline for HUMlab is the interest in multiple modes of engagement with information
technology and the digital. This means that the lab has been set up to support work
with technology as a tool, an object of study, an exploratory laboratory, an
expressive medium and an activist venue. Although there was no early explicit
commitment to these particular modes of engagement when HUMlab was started, there was
an openness and flexibility (both in terms of technology and 'content') that allowed
for very different kinds of projects and activities. Over the years, cumulative
practice and reflecting on this practice - also in relation to other international
initiatives - has resulted in a model of modes of engagement that could be said to be
part of the conceptual cyberinfrastructure of the lab. This commitment to a range of
different kinds of engagement has very direct implications for design and
infrastructure. For example, a multiple-mode focus is not compatible with having a
traditionally instrumental computer lab setup as the space needs to work for
activities such as seminars, meetings and relating to various study objects (digital
and non-digital). These elements are also important in relation to bringing in
researchers and students from the disciplines - not only because familiar elements may
be attractive, but also because they perform basic epistemic functions. As we have
already noted, a commitment to multiple modes of engagement also calls for a varied
technological setup, and HUMlab offers a wide range of technologies for analytical
work, visualization, creative work, screenings and physical computing. The downside to
this may be that it is more difficult to allocate substantial resources to single
areas (as in a specialized lab environment). More generally, it would seem that the
humanities often have need for a more diversified and multiplex infrastructure than
the kind of science and engineering cyberinfrastructure described in policy and vision
documents (cf. the discussion in Part I and the reflections presented in Part
III).

Context and digital visualization and representation: A third
conceptual foundation draws on the intersection between the humanities as providing
rich cultural and historical context and technologies of multiplex digital
visualization and representation. Here the primary associated design principle is
multiplexity and the most obvious implementation would be the screenscape and
underlying technological infrastructure. The screen and interaction space has
different functions in relation to different projects, activities and modes of
engagement. The actual implemented infrastructure clearly stimulates ideas,
experiments and uses, and in this sense the infrastructure is just the beginning. Also
the prototype design presented in various ways (e.g. a 3D model of the design, a fly
through and as a virtual environment) before the space was implemented provoked ideas,
but actually having the space makes the process easier, more grounded and multi-level.
This exemplifies the iterative nature of the process and the fact that new ideas may
develop as a partial result of having cyberinfrastructure.

Humanities Representations and Screenscapes in Practice

In a discussion of the initiative for software studies and associated cultural
analytics research at UC San Diego, Lev Manovich points to how having access to the
visualization environment HIperSpace at CALIT2 has made new ideas or directions
possible:

HIperSpace is the reason why I am able to think of
being able to map and analyze global cultural patterns in detail. I would not ever
think about it if I just worked on my laptop screen.
[Franklin & Rodriguez'G 2008]

While facilities such as HIperSpace and HUMlab are very flexible and will generate
ideas, uses and experiments beyond what could be envisioned at the start, it is also
true that users and uses are constrained by the way these infrastructures have been
thought up and set up. This could be said to be part of the conceptual
cyberinfrastructure. HIperSpace is a very large tiled display made up of many small
screens - basically a large, rectangular screen with internal mullions (caused by the
frames of the individual screens). It is seen as a front end to an optiputer and the
main overarching goal is to "examine a 'future' in which
networking is no longer a bottleneck to local, regional, national and international
computing"
[Defanti et al. 2009]. The mullions are seen as something that will
eventually get reduced and maybe disappear altogether visually - thus creating one large
seamless display. HUMlab, on the other hand, has an investment in both allowing for big
display walls and for a multitude of separate, visually distinct screens. The frames of
the screens are thus quite important, as is the positioning of individual screens in the
space. On a very large screen, such as the HIperSpace installation, you are likely to
display a number of different materials, sources and windows, and thus the individual
bits will be framed on the screen, but this framing is screen internal (cf. the notion
of multiplex frames in [Friedburg 2006], and the discussion of computer
windows in [Manovich 1995]) and rather different from having separate
screens with heavy frames. A somewhat related paradigm for visualization is
virtual reality (representing an earlier generation of privileged cyberinfrastructure),
which often tries to remove the frame altogether.

The visual
(and aural and haptic) displays that immerse the user in the virtual world and that
block out contradictory sensory impressions from the real world;
[Brooks 1999]

In some ways, the distributed screenscape of HUMlab is the opposite of such virtual
reality manifestations. In HUMlab, sensory impressions from the "real" world are
quite important and the screens are integrated in a lively studio environment. This
makes the screens less aggressive (to borrow the terminology from [Manovich 1995]) than many other visualization environments. The new part of
HUMlab borrows elements from visualization spaces, as well as traditional seminar,
studio and exhibition spaces, and the collaborative affordances (whether in relation to
technology or not) are quite important. Also, as pointed out above, the screens have
their own identity and framing. The epistemological stance is thus radically different
from that of many virtual reality environments where you, as Dan Sandin, co-inventor of
the CAVE, points out, "in a sense, view things from inside the
scene"
[Russett 2009, 183]. In other words, there is arguably no
frame.

There would be no screen between the user and the
information and no way for the user to step back and contemplate the screen at a
distance, because she would be wearing the screens as eyepieces that completely
covered her field of view.
#bolter2003

HUMlab attempts to bring together multiplex frames (digital screens that contain
separate elements such as windows) and multiple digital screens in a held-together
screenscape. Each screen can be run individually in the screenscape, be part of a large
'computer desktop' or be part of a video-signal level desktop or extended space (which
can include video, computer and other sources). The screenscape as a whole is part of a
large studio space with a seminar table in the middle of the room. In this way a range
of practices and possible uses can be supported, spanning from traditional seminars
(with no or little technology used), to individual researchers using their workstations
with one or several screens, to research groups using the large high-resolution touch
screen collaboratively and in a distributed fashion with remote data sets and
researchers, to student use of three screens to discuss different solutions to an
assigned problem, and even to large interactive art installations that use screens,
different kinds of sensor technology and spatial audio.

Let us look at a few examples more directly in relation to various humanities based
uses of the kind of environment that is described above (excluding uses that do not use
any or little technology). As digitalized material becomes increasingly available, a
screenscape can help philologists and art historians to display and interact with a
number of manuscript pages or pictures. Researchers in environmental archeology can pull
together large data sets, diverse materials and visualized data models in one space, and
use a large, high-resolution screen to work with the data model (zooming, modifying,
interrelating the model with data sources) locally or together with remote research
centers. Site-specific art installations can be created in the space. Students who have
built virtual exhibitions in Second Life can show their individual or their group’s
slices of their virtual world on screens. Events such as an indie game evenings can make
use of all the screens to allow people to interact with a range of games, and in an
associated presentation, individual games can be moved to the large screen and
juxtaposed as part of a comparative and analytical process. Other events may bring in
remote researchers through different types of virtual environments and through
visualized data sets. Thematic screenings of films can be facilitated in the space. An
upcoming seminar with an international guest speaker can be contextualized through a
curated selection of images, video clips, texts and web pages. More generally and
visionarily, complex scholarly environments for humanistic research can bring together
analytical tools, distributed materials, representations and ways to tackle central
research challenges in a studio space such as in the aforementioned descriptions, as
well as in associated online spaces.

There is certainly an interesting interrelation between the humanities and technology
supported visualization and representation, and hopefully the above description shows
that associated cyberinfrastructure comes with certain epistemic commitments, but also
that uses grow from the actual implementation and experimentation. Looking at the
conceptual cyberinfrastructure associated with new part of HUMlab, we have seen that
multiplexity and framing are critical factors. HUMlab is different from virtual reality
manifestations where there is ideally no frame (once you are "inside") and from
installations such as the HIperWall which are basically very large multiplex frames.
[Friedburg 2006] suggests a taxonomy of variables mainly based on a
cinematic perspective, which includes multiple screens, but her examples are limited to
cinematic representation (such as Charles and Ray Eames’ Glimpses of the USA exhibition
at the 1959 Moscow World's Fair). In her discussion of computer screens, Friedberg seems
to suggest a one-screen (multiplex frame) paradigm:

The Windows
interface is a postcinematic visual system, but the viewer-turned-user remains in
front of (vorstellen) a perpendicular frame.
[Friedburg 2006, 232]

This view is challenged by the increased use of many linked but individual screens
(available on MACs from the late 1980s and on Windows since the mid-nineties).
Interestingly, [Colomina 2001] shows in her analysis of the Eameses'
multimedia architecture how separate video screens, although not one screenscape in a
technical sense, can create a thematic and performative whole. With seven enormous
screens and seven individual images per screen and one final image, there were a total
of 50 images in Glimpses of the USA. These images were
presented in thematic bursts in a highly coordinated and very carefully planned
installation. Although this arrangement does not make the individual frames visually
multiplex at any given time, frame-internal multiplexity is achieved temporally.

The HUMlab setup explores the importance of having multiple screens and multiplex
frames at the same time and how this relates to the essence of the Humanities - rich
cultural and historical context, heterogeneous qualitative and quantitative materials,
different modes of representation and presentation, shared presence and multiplex
perspectives.

Design Principles

Design principles provide a layer in between the layer of conceptual
cyberinfrastructure just discussed and the actual implementation. In the case of HUMlab,
a number of central design principles have emerged in the course of the development of
the lab. While these principles naturally are situated in a specific context, they also
have some more general applicability.

Design principles can be seen as a way of connecting the ideational level with material
cyberinfrastructure, and as facilitating a means of discussing and articulating
infrastructural projects without getting caught up only in detailed infrastructure
and/or the abstract visions typical of the discourse on cyberinfrastructure (cf. Part
I). The principles are seen as being anchored in both these levels. In the following, I
will discuss a number of suggested design principles for HUMlab as an infrastructural
project. The seven principles in question are translucence, flexibility, memory and
context, multiplexity, non-linearity and messiness, engagement, and adaptability and
co-evolution. While these are not all-inclusive or unchanging, they suggest an anchored
and systemic-level foundation for HUMlab as infrastructure.

In designing the space of HUMlab, an important design principle has been
translucence. The basic idea is that it is important to see what is going
on in the lab while not resorting to having one large and totally open space. In optics,
translucent materials allow light to pass through them diffusely. The constraints and
affordances are not only visual, of course, and awareness of whether other people can
hear you or not is, for instance, an important factor. In a studio (or other)
environment, this translates to having a space which has divisions and separation which
allow for sub spaces to maintain spatial, auditory and conceptual integrity (to
different degrees), while also retaining a sense of what is going on in other parts of
the space. This affects possible interactions in several ways (cf. [Erickson & Kellogg 2000]). On one level, you have access to concurrent activities,
processes and dialogues. For instance, when the lab or a project is presented to a
delegation in the inner glass room, there is a good visual sense of activities and
people outside the room. Similarly, people outside this room have a sense of what goes
on inside (and will for instance be prepared to act when the delegation prepares to
leave the inner room). Dourish and Bly’s notion of awareness and their porthole system
are based on a similar notion, although they emphasize the distributed nature of the
system:

Awareness involves knowing who is "around," what
activities are occurring, who is talking with whom; it provides a view of one
another in the daily work environments. Awareness may lead to informal interactions,
spontaneous connections, and the development of shared cultures — all
important aspects of maintaining working relationships which are denied to groups
distributed across multiple sites.
[Dourish & Bly 1992., 541]

HUMlab takes as its point of departure the organization of collaborations across
physical-digital boundaries. For instance, seminars primarily take place in the physical
space, but they are almost always streamed live, and sometimes there is a secondary
screen showing remote participants interested in participating in the discussion.
Earlier this was done through a text-based chat client, and later with video based
software. The list of remote participants on the screen (which is visible to the
physical participants) can support a sense of shared presence and increased awareness.
Similarly, a tweet visualization with local and distant tweets in relation to an ongoing
seminar helps create a back channel with shared awareness. An important point in
relation to Dourish and Bly’s article is that designing for awareness and translucence
is quite important also in physical space, and that many current spaces are
mixed.

In the physical lab, screens (both public and semi-private ones) play an important role
in representing ongoing work and in bringing in external worlds and materials
(portholes). Activities can thus go on in both sub spaces and still retain a sense of
co-presence and co-location without unnecessarily disturbing each other. Moreover, this
arrangement opens up space more generally and helps coordinate collaboration. In the
open part of HUMlab, translucence is supported through many separate, semi-private
sections as well as through the way screens are positioned to allow a sense of ongoing
work. The translucent nature of dividers (e.g. half-tall bookcases, hanging absorbents,
pillars and screens, and an aquarium) allows dialogue, co-presence and some over-hearing
between sections.

Another relevant parameter is flexibility. A wider range of activities and
initiatives can be supported through allowing flexible use of an infrastructural
resource such as HUMlab. The importance of flexibility is often emphasized in work on
design of learning and studio environments ([Merkel 1999], [Jamieson et al. 2000], and [Gonsalvez & Atchison 2000]). Simple examples would
include ease of reconfiguring the space and changing furniture around, allowing many
different kinds of activities, flexible distribution of media, and a multiplex technical
implementation. It could be argued that a flexible setup allows more change in
pedagogical, scholarly and technological practices, whereas a fixed setup has a stronger
investment in a particular model or framework (cf. #mitchell2003). There
is a tension, however, between what is flexible and what is fixed, and total flexibility
is probably not realizable as there will always be decisions that constrain the level of
flexibility. A totally flexible space would probably have to be a compromise. Also, some
degree of fixedness can be part of good design practice and deliberate choices to
encourage certain kinds of use and activities. In the case of HUMlab, and probably many
other similar environments, there is a rather delicate balance between flexibility and
fixedness. Some of the fixedness comes from a set of basic underlying ideas about what a
space is and how it should be used and can be seen as part of the conceptual
cyberinfrastructure. In some of the virtual spaces associated with HUMlab, similar
tension can be observed. For instance when an art installation and artist (with
assumptions of exhibition and controlled space) co-exist in the same Second Life space
as people who are continuously doing experimental building, and who fly through the
asserted space of the exhibition with e.g. space ships. Negotiation is often needed in
order to resolve these clashes.

One of the things which distinguishes a studio space from a meeting room or most
classrooms is that there is a strong sense of ongoing work and activities. There is a
richness to such spaces which partly comes from the memory and context
interwoven into the various modes of expression present and in traces from previous
projects and people. In a design studio you will often find sketches and prototypes,
which provide a sense of process and provide points of display and discussion. As a set
of disciplines, the Humanities are much concerned with rich historical and cultural
context, which would seem to be well in line with a highly contextual space. If this
space is also flexible, it may allow for shifting contextual landscapes (e.g. through
dynamic screens, cf. [Manovich 1995]), as well as a more static or
semi-static memory and context.

Multiplexity is a parameter that interrelates with translucence,
flexibility and rich context. If complex processes and themes are important to the
humanities as well as collaborative, trans-disciplinary projects, it is relevant to have
a cyberinfrastructure that supports these multiple perspectives, complex data sets and
heterogeneous context. In HUMlab, multiplexity in this sense is facilitated in
particular through the screenscape in the new part of the lab. It allows the
simultaneous engagement with many types of materials, ideas and perspectives through the
screens, interaction technology, sensor technology and audio. Furthermore, many screens
ideally have an empowering function in that there is not only one main screen, which is
typically controlled by a teacher. Being in control of a single screen is often the same
thing as having the floor. The screenscape in HUmlab can be controlled by one user, all
the screens can be used together, or single users can use one or more screens
individually. In HUMlab, multiplexity is also supported through the many different kinds
of meeting and work places in the total studio space and through digitally supported
spaces. In addition, the technology setup is multiplex in that it includes a variety of
technologies, systems and software. It is quite common that students give this varied
setup as an important reason for working and studying in HUMlab. Most technology rich
labs at the university are either generic (basically providing browsing, word processing
and printing) or program or department specific (often being highly specific and
restricted as e.g. 3D modelling labs at the computer science department). One underlying
idea in HUMlab is that a varied technological setup can afford exploration and many
different types of activities and cross-over effects.

Non-linearity and messiness is about the importance of having
spaces that are not too linear, orderly or sterile. Spaces such as university classrooms
do not normally reflect ongoing work and tend to be fairly non-descript and standard.
When the class is over, the norm is typically and understandably that the room should be
left tidy and organized (and hence fairly devoid of rich context). Studio spaces, on the
other hand, typically reflect ongoing processes and are hence more contextual and
untidy.

While each and every piece of among the multitude of
material objects that appear in a progressive design studio seldom by itself has a
strong or even explicit link to an aspect of the project at hand, they as a
collection seem to conspire to create the rich environment needed to stimulate
creativity and create novel ideas.
[Fällman 2007, 5]

While lab spaces typically allow more exclusive use of the space than regular
classrooms they tend not to be as obviously untidy and processual as studio spaces.
Indeed, [Lehmann 2009] points to connotations of secrecy and specialized
technological processes associated with laboratories and how media labs may maintain
some of this sense of black box. There is certainly an element of exclusiveness
associated with many lab environments, however, it would seem that Lehman underplays the
difference between laboratory and lab (and media lab). In any case,
many lab spaces, not least new ones, appear somewhat sterile - in particular if they are
large, rectangular and fairly mono-functional. Traditional spaces are also often
horizontal in the sense that floors and ceilings are rarely used beyond their obvious
core functions – they are not seen as important design elements in a non-linear
space.

An important but somewhat illusive parameter is the sense of personal investment,
energy and attractiveness that may be associated with a space and its people, activities
and direction. Some spaces seem to lend themselves to engagement, which may
be manifested in that the space is "a place to hang out," through its sense of
energy and that visitors can engage directly with the space and remember it
afterwards. #mitchell2003 talks about the intensity of a space, and it
might be argued that a high-intensity space encourages engagement, collaboration and
exploration. It is, of course, impossible to pinpoint exactly what gives a space such
qualities, but it would seem that non-sterile and heterogeneous spaces are more likely
to evoke this kind of sentiment, and that a sense of energy can be derived from many
(different) people sharing the same space, from ongoing creative work, from a sense of
process and from a culture that supports collaboration, community and dialogue. The flow
of people gathering for different activities, project meetings and their own work is
quite important in this context, and the constant influx of new people such as visiting
postdoctoral fellows and guest speakers adds to that energy as well as integration of
external materials and distributed presence. Physical elements can clearly play an
important role here, and examples from HUMlab include the neon sign outside the lab,
beanbags, inviting couches and tables for meetings and coffee drinking, pictorial mats,
designer wallpaper, nice-looking whiteboards, plants and a large aquarium. These
elements can be as critical as computer workstations in supporting a collaborative,
engaging technology-rich environment, but their meaningfulness is also contextual and
situational. Thrown-in beanbags and designer couches will not automatically produce an
attractive studio space.

Regardless of the time and money invested into planning and designing a learning or lab
space, and regardless of the amount of flexibility built into the space, a space cannot
be said to be finished when it has been installed. Beyond any extended installation
phase or regular long-term maintenance plan, there is a need to think about space as a
dynamic and evolving entity that is intrinsically linked to users and inhabitants of
that space as well as any underlying ideational grounding. Actual use of a planned space
can be predicted and simulated, but use of space is contextual, social and, at least
sometimes, unpredictable. It may be possible to make a distinction between flexibility
(basic designed flexibility), adaptability (fairly quick responses to apparent
needs and usage patterns) and co-evolution (long-term changes as a consequence of the
interplay between the space, users of the space and the conceptual cyberinfrastructure).
The more long-term processes are thus adaptability and
co-evolution. In a longer perspective, the life of a building and a site,
also these processes are fairly short term. Brand distinguishes between different layers
of shearing from site (eternal) to structure, skin, services and space plan to stuff
[Brand 1995, 12–13]. Most of the processes mentioned here would be
related to space plan and stuff (furniture, appliances etc.), and sometimes services
(communications wiring, electrical wiring etc.).

As indicated above, a basic presumption is that in most cases, it is not possible to
create a totally flexible space, and that there is a tension between a very high degree
of flexibility and a grounded, context-specific ideational basis. In HUMlab, an example
of flexibility ("stuff") would be moveable chairs, light-weight tables, portable
screens and distributed control of audio systems. An example of adaptability (space
plan and to some extent, services) may be when a table intended for other
use increasingly started to be used by laptop users and was hence equipped with cabling
and new light fixtures, or when an underused part of the lab was redesigned with lower
bookcases (to allow a higher degree of contact through translucence), a new
laptop-friendly table and a new combined whiteboard and projection screen (see Figure 3).

After the corner space was redesigned into this more "café-like" setting, usage
increased significantly. Given that a space develops over many years, there will be
on-going co-evolution between the people and activities of that space and how the space
is continuously reconfigured.

Introduction

As we have seen in this article, research infrastructure for the humanities is diverse,
multi-level and often distinctly material and highly abstract at the same time. With an
inclusive definition of research infrastructure, almost anything needed to carry out
research in the humanities could be included: ranging from paper, pens, books, furniture
and people to database structures, grid computing facilities, visualization centers and
libraries. We saw in Part I how cyberinfrastructure can be seen as a science and
engineering project associated with funding mechanisms, policy making and high-cost
research equipment of national or international interest. In Part II, a specific
humanities infrastructure was presented and analyzed, and related to design principles
and an ideational level, called conceptual cyberinfrastructure.

If we regard cyberinfrastructure as a system, it could be argued that the humanities
needs to look at its own existing and future infrastructure in systemic terms. Through
arguing for a diversified but conceptually unified infrastructure, it may be possible to
both match the epistemic scope of the humanities and incorporate elements that would be
difficult to incorporate if the focus is on isolated pieces of equipment. For instance,
if we see a centrally located seminar table as important to a planned instance of
humanities infrastructure[1], it should be part of
our conceptual framing and implementation. A diversified, but amalgated, infrastructure
is also in line with a broad notion of infrastructure suggested by the ‘infrastructure
turn’. Part II provided an example of how a specific humanities infrastructure can be
packaged and unpackaged in this way. We will now look more closely at some aspects of
packaging and implementing humanities cyberinfrastructure.

Some General Reflections

In this article, it has been argued that it is vital that the humanities engage in
conversations about research infrastructure and articulation of possible infrastructural
needs. It seems reasonable to see the infrastructure turn as an important
possibility for the humanities, but one laden with assumptions, political context and
some risks. For instance, we need to be careful not to uncritically buy into a science
and engineering paradigm or only using existing infrastructure, such as libraries, as a
default model for new infrastructure. Articulating a humanities-based notion of
cyberinfrastructure requires reflection and careful consideration, but also strategic
action and interest in implementation. However, we also need to learn from each other
and from disciplines and areas that have a strong infrastructural tradition [Rockwell 2010].

It would seem sensible to let the process from idea to actual implementation take time
given the often high cost of research infrastructure and the relative lack of
established infrastructural framing for the humanities. Rockwell argues that we should
support research infrastructure experiments [Rockwell 2010]. Indeed,
conceptual sketches, digital models, simulations and different kinds of prototyping are
important tools in considering, testing, and evaluating suggested infrastructures.
Mockups, structural diagrams and user trials can help thinking through a digital
database tool, and a small-size lab installation can generate important knowledge for a
planned large-scale installation. Moreover, a digital humanities laboratory or center
can be seen as an experimental space or playground in itself. In the case of HUMlab,
this has been manifested through having a wide variety of technologies and competencies
available in the lab, and encouraging exploration and experimentation.

One common assumption, sometimes even a defining criterion, evident in the discourse on
cyberinfrastructure is that research infrastructure is distributed. Not just in the
sense of data or tools being located elsewhere, but in the sense of a shared vision of a
distributed research space. When discussing virtual organizations, Cummings et al. say
that through coordinated infrastructure, "scientists and
engineers can work together in environments that allow scientific integration,
greater access, efficient problem solving, and competitive advantage"
[Cummings et al. 2008, 3]. (The main title for their report is
illustratively "Beyond Being There.") Atkins et al. talk
about distributed "laboratories without walls" as a major
emergent development [Atkins et al. 2003, 13]. Typically, work and data are
not seen as simply distributed, but are said to require high capacity networks and
distributed computing power. While most digital humanities infrastructures are
distributed in one sense or another, it might be argued that physical space and local
context can be quite important infrastructural components, and that we do not
necessarily need to buy into a "placeless," high-capacity and all-distributed sense
of infrastructure. It could be claimed that the digital humanities operate across a
spectrum of distributedness. Twitter, Zotero, Flickr and Second Life are all examples of
distributed platforms that could be integrated in many digital humanities contexts as
well as complex database systems, online tools, live shared visualizations and grid
computing. While all of these elements can potentially be integrated in a physical lab
or studio space, many will not.

As we have noted, a related assumption is that technology included in
cyberinfrastructure needs to be high-capacity, top-of-the-line and advanced. Grid
computing is much more likely to be incorporated in this kind of discourse than, say,
Zotero and non-massive datasets. The NSF Blue-ribbon report on cyberinfrastructure [Atkins et al. 2003] contains 55 instances of the word "advanced" and 21
instances of the collocation "advanced cyberinfrastructure." It is
pointed out that "[b]y advanced we mean both the
highest-performing technology and its use in the most leading-edge
research"
[Atkins et al. 2003, 5] (original emphasis). This
is an example of how certain expectations in fact define what is and what is not
research infrastructure. While a platform such as Twitter may not match these
expectations, it is worth carefully considering Matthew Kirschenbaum’s question:
"Q: Has Twitter done more as DH cyberinfrastructure than
any dedicated effort to date?"
#kirschenbaum2010. The
templates of cyberinfrastructure, however, can be tweaked and reframed if necessary. For
example, through advocating for a varied and multiplex research infrastructure for the
humanities, it may be possible to gain enough leverage for it to qualify as
cyberinfrastructure, while not sacrificing many of the technologies and uses that may
not qualify as research infrastructure by themselves.

We will now briefly look at some issues that have been quite important to establishing
HUMlab as infrastructure, which have more general applicability: the framing of
cyberinfrastructure, the importance of owning the port, the humanities pushing the
technological envelope and why we need to speak up.

Framing Humanities Cyberinfrastructure

Funding is a central concern for most infrastructural projects. Here the humanities
often find themselves in a position where sources of funding are mainly adapted to other
areas. At one point, HUMlab attempted to apply for research infrastructure funding of a
fairly traditional science and engineering kind although this focus was never made fully
explicit. One problem in this application was matching the funding agency’s expectations
of infrastructure with the planned implementation. For instance, the call in question
made it clear that applications should be for functional units and that these units are
normally quite costly (this category of funding was for expensive equipment). The type
of infrastructure envisioned had some high-cost parts, but was much more diverse and
distributed than what was clearly expected in this context – anchored in the idea of a
fairly broadly conceived humanities and technology lab. The prototypical candidate for
this kind of call was probably an expensive microscope, spectrometer or high performance
computing unit; all functional and physical units of considerable cost. The application
was not successful, but it was a useful exercise in that it made it clear to us that we
needed to frame the cyberinfrastructure of the lab – not necessarily to conform with the
expectations of the funding agencies, but rather to make a convincing argument for a
different type of infrastructural need based on a different epistemic scope. The framing
that developed from this process emphasized multiplexity (the need for many different
kinds of perspectives, technology and infrastructure), local and distributed
collaboration (partly through shared presence and materials), experimentation (the need
to try infrastructure out together with humanists), openness (the infrastructure would
attract humanities researchers but also many others) and a high degree of access to the
infrastructure (24 hours all year).

Owning the Port

There were some important decisions made at an early stage that shaped HUMlab’s basic
infrastructure and that were also partly a result of good relations with the
university-wide computer central. For instance, at the point at which HUMlab was started
the most logical choice would probably have been to make the network proxy-based like in
most of the student laboratories. However, this would have made the lab network more
closed and it would have been difficult to make use of some software requiring specific
network ports to be open (such as some virtual world software and some systems for
streaming media). The fact that HUMlab was given the kind of network connection used in
faculty and staff offices was important and allowed experimentation that would not have
been possible, or at least difficult, otherwise. This particular issue would probably
not be very relevant in relation to present-day installations, but there are many other
choices and considerations that may similarly create obstacles or possibilities (some of
which are so-called "last mile" problems). Some of them may seem like purely
technical low-level considerations without any obvious content repercussions, but
if possible, it is important to be involved in such decisions, and have people on board
with a good sense of technical infrastructure as well as with an engagement in the
humanities and the interface between the humanities and technology.

Another low-level technology example concerns a rather inconspicuous metallic box
mounted on one of the HUMlab walls. The box contains six pairs of optical fiber
connected to the university computer central and the virtual reality lab. Without good
support from the central university administration this installation would not have
happened, and one general experience is that it is important to get as much done as
possible at the point of installation. The box has never actually been used, although
there were some fairly feeble attempts to connect HUMlab to the virtual reality
laboratory at one point. Thus, this is clearly a failed investment on one level. The
original rationale was for connecting high-level visualization facilities, and for
future (largely undefined) use. Even though the connection has not been used in the 10
years since it was installed, it might be argued that it has provided high-level
bandwidth and connective possibilities (although unrealized). Of course this non-use is
not optimal, but it can also be seen as part of providing a good base level
infrastructure. There is also often a window of opportunity when initial investments and
construction work are being done. Certain installations can often be done fairly easily
done as part of a larger construction project. And when looking at future expansion
plans and creating portals between HUMlab and HUMlab-X, and between HUMlab and several
international digital humanities centers there has indeed been renewed interest in the
dedicated optical fiber connection.

Most digital humanities cyberinfrastructures are likely to incorporate technology to at
least some, but often considerable, extent, and going from idea and concept to actual
implementation is not always a simple or fast process. If all it takes is a number of
standard workstations, or a standard database server, there will most likely not be a
problem, but larger and non-standard installations are often complex. This is true
generally speaking, and it is important to have a clear vision and to be able to
communicate with technology experts in a dialogic and informed fashion. In the case of
humanities infrastructures, which may be built on different epistemics, there may be
problems that stem from the differentness of the envisioned installation. In such
situations, it is quite important to be knowledgeable and communicative enough to be
able to work the planning and implementation processes.

Returning to the screenscape in HUMlab, this installation did not fit the template in
several ways. For instance, the standard multiple screen scenario combines screens to
create larger, seamless displays. Having screens spread out at the periphery of a large
space is less common. Several participants in the design process argued in favor of one
large screenscape which connected the screens seamlessly (rather than having them
separate). Installing the 11 large screens was not a major technical problem, however,
rather the complexity lay with how they are controlled and made accessible. Also, the
screenscape included a 4K projector with very high resolution, which added an additional
layer of complexity. The basic idea of rich contextualization, humanities-based
representation and flexibility was implemented through a complex system where the total
screenscape can be run through dedicated computers (one computer per screen), from one
computer with an 11-screen desktop or through a video signal level system (where 24
sources irrespective of type can be placed in the screenscape). This is obviously not an
off-the-shelf system, and it is critical to be able to not lose track of epistemic
grounding and the basic idea while discussing implementation with researchers, experts
and others, and when carrying out the implementation. HUMlab’s screenscape is an example
of a humanities infrastructural installation pushing the technical boundaries - and this
is a recurring experience. When the head of one of the computer functions at the
university described HUMlab at one point he said that it is the most interesting
technology space on campus. The point here is that it is quite possible for the
humanities to create a functional and highly visible platform, and that epistemic
commitments of the humanities disciplines can make for interesting technological
challenges that will often attract students and experts from the fields of technology
and engineering.

Speaking Up

Implementing large, and also often smaller, infrastructural projects in a university
context is typically a fairly complicated processes with many people, competencies,
sub-processes and different levels of decision and policy making involved. The degree of
control and expected involvement depends on many different factors, but in any case,
anyone involved in this kind of process as a main agent will have to take part in any
number of meetings, negotiations and concerns about low-level technical and
constructional details. Speaking up is important. Here design principles can be useful
as a kind of intermediate language and, in the case of HUMlab, working with a 3D model
of the planned new part of the lab turned out to be very useful. Partly because the
model allowed the exploration of different possibilities, but also because the
"finished" model served very well when planning the actual implementation with
international experts, contractors, the property owner and university
administration.

In Figure 4, the right hand side of the visualization represents the existing part of
the lab (as of the beginning of 2006) and left hand side represents the planned
addition. The end result did not turn out quite as planned, but the basic conceptual
grounding and the layout are very clear in the actual implementation. Apart from still
visualizations, associated animations were also created, and these proved quite useful
in general presentations of HUMlab and when discussing the project with funding
agencies.

As has been noted, seemingly small decisions can have significant impact. It is often
useful to follow the implementation process quite closely and to talk to the people
involved in the actual implementation (construction workers, engineer, programmers etc.)
continuously. This allows you to ensure everyone has a sense of what the installation is
about, learn from each other, and react if there are any misunderstandings. Sometimes
there might be very different views on the impact of certain decisions. On one occasion
in the planning of the new part of HUMlab, there was a meeting with most of the
contractors, university administration and the property owner, where one point of
disagreement was the new cooling and ventilation system for both parts of the lab. As
mentioned previously, upgrades of existing infrastructure are often easier when you are
doing new installations.

The plan that had been decided on included partially lowering the ceiling in the old
part of the lab. Even if this may seem like a fairly significant change, it had not been
communicated verbally, and even if HUMlab had had access to the relevant drawings, they
would have been difficult to decipher for laymen. The point here is that to the
contractors this was not a major change. They needed to fit large pipes above the
ceiling and the most reasonable way to do this would be to lower the ceiling – a matter
of implementation. At this point, only the HUMlab representative (among 15 people) spoke
up and articulated the importance of the varying ceiling heights of the lab, and how it
would be very unfortunate to implement this change. The argument was not functional in a
strict sense but rather aesthetic and about the energy and sense of the space. Through
support from the university administration the contractors were asked to see if there
were any alternative solutions (although it had been said earlier that there was only
that one possibility). When the rationale had been communicated the contractors found an
alternative solution, and eventually a way was found to keep the ceiling intact. Also,
the intricacies of the ceiling scape (above the visible ceiling) became much clearer to
the HUMlab representative.

Another interesting point of negotiation concerned wallpapering four pillars with a
green, leafy pattern in order to help create a sense of a room without the walls, where
the proposal (partly a result of working with interior decorators) was deemed impossible
or not suitable no less than three times. This may partly have been a gendered
experience as the two interior decorators were women proposing an atypical use of
wallpaper to a totally male dominated work and management group. The issue was resolved
after HUMlab made it quite clear that the wallpaper was very important to the whole
expansion. It turned out that one rationale for the initial unwillingness to wallpaper
the pillars (for the workers) was that it would not be possible to do high-quality
wallpapering on the round but multi-faceted pillars. Afterwards, everyone involved
agreed on the success of the wallpapered pillars as concept and implementation. A
general finding here is that intense collaboration and talking are critical, and that
there is real value to clearly articulating what we, as part of the core operation of
the university (research and teaching), need in order to carry out or work.

Conclusion

Speaking up must be done on many levels. At a workshop on humanities cyberinfrastructure
at UC Irvine in 2006, there was an appeal (or maybe request) from Dan Atkins, then head of
the NSF Office of Cyberinfrastructure, that the humanities and social sciences step up and
show leadership in relation to the issue of future cyberinfrastructure. This article can
partly be seen as a response to this request in the sense of suggesting a model grounded
in core humanities challenges, the conceptual cyberinfrastructure to tackle those
challenges (if any), as well as in design principles and as exemplified in implemented
cyberinfrastructure. We need to reflect critically on cyberinfrastructure, explore
ideational and technological visions, and think about the future of the humanities. The
call is arguably ours.

Acknowledgements

I draw on dialogue and collaboration with a great many people, and I would like to
particularly acknowledge extensive and valuable feedback from Matthew Ratto, Erica Robles,
Jenna Ng and two anonymous DHQ reviewers. Stephanie Hendrick checked the text and
argumentation carefully, and Emma Ewadotter assisted me with practical research issues.
The article also benefited from feedback given after a talk at UCLA, Nov 10, 2009, hosted
by Johanna Drucker and the Department of Information Studies.

Notes

[1]We have mentioned three examples where such a table
evidently plays an important role: ACTlab at the University of Texas [Svensson 2010], Humanities Computing at University of Alberta [Svensson 2010], and HUMlab (this article).

European Roadmap 2006
"Reports European Roadmap for Research Infrastructures Report 2006". European Strategy Forum on Research Infrastructures. Office for
Official Publications of the European Communities: Luxembourg, 2006.

Rockwell & Meredith-Lobay 2010 Rockwell,
Geoffrey and Megan Meredith-Lobay. "Mind the Gap: A multidisciplinary
workshop bridging the gap between High Performance Computing and the Humanities",
Draft Report 3.0. Prepared with the help of Jeff Antoniak
and Jon Johansson.
https://docs.google.com/View?id=dhbw7427_4hnbkr8cd.

Rockwell 2010 Rockwell, Geoffrey. "As Transparent as Infrastructure: On the research of cyberinfrastructure in the
humanities", ed. McGann, Jerome. Online Humanities
Scholarship: The Shape of Things to Come. Rice University Press.
http://rup.rice.edu/cnx_content/shape/m34315.html.